


While Shepherds Washed

by HolRose



Series: Soft stories for the festive season in these trying times [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Is Trying (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale is So Done (Good Omens), Christmas, Crowley Created the Stars (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Friendship, M/M, The Nativity, They love each other, but they don't know it yet, the ineffable plan, what really happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:48:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28218723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HolRose/pseuds/HolRose
Summary: Aziraphale is on an assignment of the utmost importance in Bethlehem. It all seemed so simple at the outset, but nothing he does ever seems to go quite to plan. Who else can he depend upon but his wily adversary to help him put things right? And if things turn out differently than he had expected, well, perhaps that was part of the Plan all along…An alternative story of the Nativity starring one Angel of the Lord, one Demon, a Star, some argumentative shepherds, two expectant parents and one very grumpy donkey.This follows on from theprevious workin this series.Happy Holidays Elf!
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Soft stories for the festive season in these trying times [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2058882
Comments: 14
Kudos: 14





	While Shepherds Washed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [elf_on_the_shelf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elf_on_the_shelf/gifts).



> Dramatis personae
> 
> Barachiel, Angel with dominion over the weather  
> Aziraphale, an Angel of the Lord  
> Crowley, a Demon  
> Zebulon, a Shepherd  
> Asher, a Shepherd  
> Barshabba, a Shepherd  
> Nicodemus, a Shepherd  
> Martha, daughter of Justus, but also a Shepherd in her own right, thank you very much  
> Miryam, a mother  
> Yosef, a father  
> Yeshua, a newborn  
> The Innkeeper  
> The Innkeeper’s wife  
> Benjamin, a donkey  
> Barnabus, a ram  
> Two unnamed oxen
> 
> This story is based on a Tumblr post that Neil Gaiman made last year about how Aziraphale might have been involved in the Nativity. He particularly mentioned that Aziraphale messed up the bookings at the inn, and I wondered how that might have looked and this happened.
> 
> When I was young and we sang ‘While shepherds watched their flocks by night’, at school, I and my classmates invariably sung ‘while shepherds washed their socks by night’, that is the joke here. I am not sure if people still do that. Let me know your version in the comments.
> 
> Kudos and comments will be adored.

**The hills above Bethlehem, sometime around 4 BC**

_The angel Barachiel ceased her labours and leaned upon her broom. She had swept the skies around the part of the Earth that was significant for the forthcoming event quite clean of clouds, ushering them away with the brush in her hand. Now she was taking a little time for herself before she would have to journey back to Heaven._

_It was nearing twilight, and the town below her looked beautiful in the dying light of the day. The air was cooling, now that the sun had set, leaving a trail of fire beside where she was manifest, and as she watched, lights came on in many of the windows of the flat-roofed buildings below, their twinkling answering that of the stars as they started to appear in the purple of the sky around her. It was a peaceful scene, the little settlement quiet, a small group of people and two dogs urging a flock of sheep to where they would overnight on the pastureland in the gentle hills above the town the only figures visible. The angel could hear snatches of their words of encouragement to the animals now and again on the breeze stirring the air about her, breaking the otherwise silent stillness of the night._

_Barachiel stood up straight from her leaning, and hefted her broom over what would approximate to her shoulder, had she been wearing a human body. She should not tarry, she knew. Gabriel was never patient with latecomers, and she had to fit herself into the corporeal form that they would be obliged to wear for the singing of the paean later. She loved to sing, and this was a joyous occasion. She unfurled her wings and, with a blink, passed through dimensions, rising up to soar into the empyrean, leaving the perfect scene below her set for the coming of the Herald, the Star and the Child Himself._

_***_

“Oh Good Lord! What are _you_ doing here?”

“Nice to see you too, Aziraphale.”

“If you are here to disrupt proceedings, I _will_ be forced to…”

“Calm your tits, Aziraphale, ‘m just interested, that’s all, no need to get your knickers in a twist.”

“Hmm, well, you have to admit, it doesn’t look good, you being here tonight. Are you sure you aren’t here to do something dastardly?”

“You have my word…”

This statement was interrupted by a very un-angelic harrumphing noise, indicating the scepticism of one Servant of the Lord.

“Come _on!_ When have I ever lied to you?”

Crawly held both hands in the air in a placatory gesture. Aziraphale eyed him suspiciously.

“Whatever you might say, it would be best if you weren’t to hang about here. I have an assignment to complete and it is quite likely that others of the Host are going to be around very soon. I should make myself scarce if I were you.”

“Yeah, well, I will. Just wanted to get a looksee at whatever’s going on.”

“How do _you_ know about it anyway?” said Aziraphale, a haughty expression crossing his face.

“Nnnyeah, it’s all over Hell, a buzz about Something Big happening, organised by Upstairs. We’ve been specifically told not to interfere, Beelzebub issued a memo, but nobody said anything about not taking a look.”

Crawley was all about exploiting loopholes, verbal or otherwise, and his propensity for curiosity was insatiable, despite it having got him into a lot of trouble over the years. A particularly memorable occasion, ending in a million-light-year freestyle dive into a pool of burning sulphur, was just one of many vivid reminders of how much trouble he was capable of finding himself involved in, with seemingly very little effort. That is not to say that his angelic counterpart on Earth was not similarly endowed with the capacity for getting into messes entirely of his own creation. In that way, they were very evenly matched.

That afternoon, Crawly had sauntered along to the Bethlehem area to see what was going down, keeping his wits about him to avoid bumping into Gabriel or Michael, or anyone else of whom he had profoundly unpleasant memories. Meeting Aziraphale had been both a relief and rather a pleasant bonus. It was always good to see the angel. He had realised this was how he felt about whatever they had between them for quite some time ago now. Although he could be a bit of a pompous arse at times, he was generally happy to see Crawly and keen to chat once the inevitable awkward initial stages of their meetings had been smoothed over.

The demon often wondered if his angel counterpart was just as lonely as he was, it certainly seemed that way sometimes, especially if the look that would steal over his face after they had been drinking together for a while was anything to go by. Once the caution that seemed habitual with the angel had lessened as they settled in and got to talking, his eyes and mouth would soften in what appeared to be a genuine expression of fondness.

For his part, Crawly liked spending time with his adversary. An evening with Aziraphale guaranteed him good company and a worthy opponent in whatever debate they found themselves involved in. They argued frequently about all kinds of things from the petty to the transcendental. Sometimes they fell out, but there was an unspoken understanding there, something to do with the parity that existed between them as the only supernatural agencies currently on Earth. It was more than that for Crawly, too. Aziraphale was genuinely soft-hearted, even towards a demon, and there were times, occasionally, when the conversation turned to the more distressing experiences of life on Earth, that he would instinctively, it seemed, offer sympathy and a warmth he had never been able to find with anyone else on this fascinating little planet.

Crawly surveyed Aziraphale from crown to toes, noting that he was looking good. He was dressed in his usual pale browns and creams. Nothing so ornate that might make him stand out, but in a manner that would lead the average human to take him for a moderately prosperous man, mild and unthreatening, which was his customary way. His hair was the usual lovely mess, the curls that appeared so soft framing the brightness of his face, those blue-green eyes that changed with mood and weather gazing fondly on him now, the cheeks rosy and pink lips bowed upwards in a sweet smile.

“How have you been, Crawly?”

There was the usual genuine interest there and that softness he had never felt from other angels, even Before.

‘Yeah, you know, fine. And you?”

“Oh, can’t complain. Quite excited about tonight, if I’m honest.”

“What’s it all about, then?”

Aziraphale glanced about them, and seeing there was no-one else in the vicinity apart from a group of humans further down the hill, leaned in and lowered his voice.

“Well,” he said, with a wiggle, speaking in a confidential tone, “a child is to be born here, to a lovely young woman who will be arriving later this evening, and he is to be important, a prophet, possibly more. It’s all rather vague, but he is definitely of significance, and it’s going to be a good thing for a lot of people, as I understand it.”

“Oh right, so you don’t have any detail then?”

“You know I’m not consulted on policy — it’s all part of the Plan, not for me to question — but,” he lowered his voice further and drew yet nearer to Crawley, “from what I hear, his message will be one of mercy and forgiveness…”

“Bit of a change of tactics on Her part then.”

“ _Must_ you, Crawly?” said Aziraphale, drawing away mouth turning downwards with disapproval momentarily.

“Anyway,’ he said, rather primly, “it should make such a difference, if his teachings are taken-up widely.”

The angel drew his clasped hands up to chest level, raised his eyes to the sky, looking distinctly cherubic, and continued to speak, voice brimming with enthusiasm.

“Just _think_ of it, Crawly, no more intolerance, people being kind to each other, an end to painful torture and pointless deaths for the humans. I reckon it’s all going to be rather lovely, once this catches on.”

He smiled, his face lighting up like the sun rising. Crawly didn’t like to subdue such radiance, but he did have a professional reputation to maintain, so he started circling the angel, speaking as he did so.

“Oh yeah, that’s bound to work, famously tolerant and kind, humans, ‘specially the Romans, I’m sure they’ll welcome this with open arms.”

Aziraphale looked delighted, the smile notching up another megawatt or two. “Really? Do you think so? Oh, that would be _marvellous_!”

Crawley remembered the angel’s imperviousness to sarcasm and, unable to stomach further attempts at cynicism in the face of his bright expression changed tactics.

“What are you doing here, anyway?”

“I have an important mission to complete,” his stance stiffened and he puffed up his chest, “I am to convey a message of good cheer to humanity. I’m terrifically excited about it,” he finished, with a blissful radiant look that edged towards the smug.

“A message? Who for? There’s nobody up here apart from those…”

“It’s for those shepherds just down the hill there.”

Aziraphale gestured with his arm to an area of land down the slope from where they were standing. Crowley narrowed his eyes and looked in the direction where the angel was pointing, seeing the huddled group of people and couple of dogs that he had passed earlier on his way up the hill.

“Whuh…?” Crawly genuinely didn’t understand, and it showed on the face he turned to Aziraphale, “They aren't exactly influential — why are you bothering those poor sods with all that — bloody righteous fervour?”

Aziraphale’s face showed a mixture of disdain and puzzlement which seemed to result in his eyebrows not being clear on what it was they were supposed to be doing. Puzzlement won out at the end of his facial contortions, a little crease showing between his brows as they neared each other.

“I’m not quite sure, to be honest. Gabriel told me to get up here, said it was a question of demographics.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“That’s not for you to be pondering,” disdain was back, having defeated puzzlement in the final minutes of their bout as the angel remembered his station and who he was currently talking to, “whoever the message is for, they are all deserving in the sight of the Lord, so I just have to go over there and tell them the Good News.”

“Why aren’t you — you’re just in normal clothes — where’s the fancy duds, and the wings and the glory-all-around, then?”

“Ah, well, that’s the cunning part of all this. Gabriel left that element of proceedings to my discretion, so I am trying out a different approach.”

“You what?’

“Yes, it’s all rather new, but I am of the opinion that frightening people is counter-productive. They see an a large figure, in the sky, all — you know — blazing with holy light and wings and a flaming sword etcetera, and all it does is alarm them, the poor things.”

Aziraphale hadn’t _precisely_ had anything left to his discretion, _as such_ , but as Gabriel hadn’t gone in to any detail as to the specifics of his mission, he had decided to approach it differently on his own initiative, convinced that there had to be a better way of going about things.

What he was hoping to avoid was a repeat of what had happened about nine months earlier when Gabriel had been sent to deliver his own important message. As Aziraphale had gathered from talking with the subject of the operation later on, the Archangel had appeared, dressed in his finest robes, six wings mantled, blinding light surrounding his head, and completely failed in his objective. All he had achieved was to frighten his subject, a teenage girl from Nazareth who was minding her own business at the time, collecting water from the local well, completely out of her wits.

When Aziraphale had chatted with the woman, Miryam, a couple of days afterwards, it became clear that there was little about the experience that she actually did remember, apart from the overwhelming fear. Aziraphale had been forced to go to her house later that night and shove a note with the salient details under her door. It hadn’t been the most successful of operations, in his view. Tonight’s message, the importance of which had been made very clear to him, was going to be put across properly and with the avoidance of any soiling to the undergarments of those on the receiving end of it.

“So what are you going to do, then?”

“I’m just going to go over there and have a nice little chat with them.”

“What on Earth are you going to say?”

“Are you _sure_ you aren’t up here to cause trouble?”

“No, honestly, I’m just in the area to have a look, and then I’ll be on my way. ’S getting a bit late, probably find an inn and see if I can get a drink. Mind you, with all the people here for this census the Romans are holding at the moment, might be busy…”

Aziraphale’s face changed, mouth rounding in an ‘o’ of horror, eyes widening. His hand went to his head, fingers pushing fretfully into his cloud of linen-white curls.

“Oh, the bookings, I forgot all about the…”

“What’s the matter Aziraphale, what bookings?”

“The inn, for the couple who are on their way. They’ll be here any time now — they’ve come so far and she’s just about to give birth — they’ll both be absolutely exhausted!”

“What? Were you supposed to book them a room or something — surely you didn’t just forget about it?”

“No, don’t be ridiculous, I didn’t forget that part,” said the angel, snappishly, “I made the reservations in good time. In fact I booked _all_ the rooms in the inn, just to make sure. B-but they’re in my name, and in the rush to get up here after Gabriel came to see me with the instructions for this job, I forgot to leave a note for Yosef and Miryam about it. They’ll get here and it’ll seem like there’s no place for them. Oh, whatever shall I do?”

Aziraphale looked across at Crawly, his eyes huge and pleading. The demon rocked his head back and screwed his eyes shut. _For Satan’s sake_ , but he couldn’t resist the angel when he made that wounded expression, reminiscent of nothing so much as a disconcerted fawn who had mislaid its mother.

“You feather-brained nit,” he said, crossly.

The eyes grew, if anything, sadder.

“Right. _Fine_. Get over there and speak to your shepherds, and I’ll go to the inn, see if I can sort things out. Which one is it?”

“Oh would you? That is _so_ kind, it’s the first one you come to on the road in, you can’t miss it. Oh Crawly, tha…“

“Shut it, Aziraphale. Badness knows what my lot would do to me if they knew I was getting involved in this.”

“Well, it’s very much appreciated, nonetheless.”

“Lucky I was in the area, wasn’t it?”

I suppose it was… If you could,” the angel made a little gesture with both hands, as if ushering the demon away, “and I’ll just…” he made a movement to set off down the hill.

“Yes, yes, I’m going. I’ll catch up with you later.”

“Jolly good. And Crawly…”

“Yes?”

“I’ll buy the drinks next time I see you to, ah, show my gratitude, as it were.”

***

Wringing his hands, worried still about what might be going on in the town below with regard to Miryam, Yosef and one Earth-based demon. Aziraphale walked down the hill towards the little encampment at the top of the furthest field of pasture from the settlement below. He wasn’t that comfortable with sending Crawly directly to the place where the main event of the evening was happening, but didn't feel he had much choice. He had a job to do here and it was imperative that it be completed right away.

Gabriel had been very clear about the importance of this assignment. He had come to see Aziraphale in his lodgings just a few hours previously and spoken to him in his familiar condescending manner.

_“Aziraphale! How’re ya doing, buddy?”_

The greeting had been delivered alongside a punch to his upper arm that had deadened all the feeling down the rest of that unfortunate limb for a good half hour.

_“Okay, champ, got a special job for you…”_

There had been a set of instructions rattled off to him without further ado, and he had been given no chance at all to speak himself before the Archangel was getting up to leave, only pausing at the door of his humble dwelling to look around with a moue of distaste at his surroundings, and, he felt it inferred rather strongly, at Aziraphale himself. As Gabriel readied himself to leave, he had leaned-in close to Aziraphale and spoken directly into his face.

_“I’m sure I can leave it with you, but be make you **don’t mess this up**.”_

Aziraphale had nodded mutely, and tried to continue smiling when the larger being had slapped him heartily on the back of his right shoulder, causing him to stagger forward a little. Gabriel had nodded once, snapped his fingers and vanished with a resounding crack in a streak of violet lightning.

Aziraphale always felt wrong footed in the presence of the Archangel, and this time was no exception. He couldn’t believe that he had already made a hash of one part of what he was here to do. He closed his eyes and groaned inwardly. Why did he get so flustered where Gabriel was concerned? He did very well with his assignments when he was left alone to get on with things. The humans he met seemed to like him, and he blended in, mostly. Overall, he felt he had managed to do quite a bit of good during his time so far on this lovely little planet. He felt a great sense of love and obligation for the people he dealt with and empathised with them as much as he was able. He tried to stop fretting, telling himself to concentrate: he could at least get this bit of the assignment right. He cleared his throat and focused on his wording.

The shepherds appeared to be busy with something so he hung back for a moment. One of them was hunched over a bowl of some sort, another two were putting together a little structure of slim branches next to their fire. He walked up to where they were working.

“Excuse me, I was wondering if I might have a word.”

He smiled encouragingly at the man crouched below him who turned a preoccupied face in his direction.

“Giz a minute, I’m just washing me socks.”

“Your socks?”

“Yus. Nothing nicer than clean socks of a cold morning. If I do them now, they’ll be dry by dawn,” he said, lifting his head and regarding Aziraphale more closely, “I dun’t know you stranger, ‘oo are ya?”

“Erm, I come with, ah, news, yes, glad tidings of…”

“Tidings? Anyone ‘ere know this bloke then? Is this summink to do wiv you, Asher?”

Another shepherd finished tying together the small frame of sticks and wondered over to where the speaker remained crouching over the bowl, gazing up at Aziraphale. The newcomer looked him up and down thoroughly, and screwed up his face as if thinking hard.

“Nah, I don’t know ‘im,” he said to the other shepherd, then turned and addressed Aziraphale directly.

“Whatcha want with Zebulon ‘ere then, is it ‘is wife again? Dozy mare, ‘e told ‘er it were a late ‘un this evening.”

“N-no, it’s a message for all of you, and for all of mankind.”

“Why you tellin’ us then. We’re jus’ simple shepherds…”

“Speak for yourself, Asher.”

Another voice joined the discussion, which, to Aziraphale’s mind, was getting rather out of hand. This wasn’t what he had expected when he had come up with this idea. He had envisaged rather more in the way of rapt attention. Perhaps manifesting the wings would have been a better approach after all.

“I ain’t simple. Comin’ ‘ere, callin’ people simple…”

“I didn’t say anything of the sort!” protested Aziraphale, looking around him for someone more sensible to encourage into the discourse.

“You,” said the first man he had spoken to, “you’re awf’ly smartly turned out to be up ‘ere this time of night, talkin’ to shepherds. What’s your little game, then?”

“Really, gentlemen, I just…”

“Oi,” came a higher-pitched voice, “we ain't all men up ‘ere ya know. Bloody typical, trust a man to make assumptions about the gender of sheep herders. I blame the stereotypical expectations of those furthering the agenda of the patriarchy, myself.”

“Give it a rest, Martha, you are covering for your old man, after all.”

“Not his fault if he’s poorly, people still shouldn’t go about, making gender-based assumptions, that’s all I’m saying.”

“He’d ‘ave been here isself, if he ‘adn’t been so fond of sheep, if you get my meaning,” growled another voice.

“Barshabba! You take that back, you disgusting man! Anyone can get scrapie, he’s just been unlucky.”

“Desperate, more like,” muttered the gruff voice belonging to Barshabba

“Very well,” said Aziraphale, loudly, in an attempt to regain control of the conversation, “sheep herding people of mixed gender, um, harken unto me.”

“Why?”

This was the first speaker, Zebulon, again.

“Yeah, why should we listen to you? Jus’ because you got nice clothes and talk all refined-like, you think we should listen to what you ‘ave to say. Well, I won’t stand for it, I got these socks to ‘ang up by the fire and then I intend to ‘ave a kip. ’S been a ‘ard day’s shepherding, and I’m knackered.”

“Oh for goodness sake.” said Aziraphale, fast approaching the end of his particular tether, “ _Fiat lux._ ”

“Wossat? Now ‘e’s talkin’ all posh. Oooh, that’s pretty, ‘ow d’you do that, then?”

A small amount of glory did shine around at that point in the form of a ball of light that hovered over Aziraphale’s head. The shepherds stood up and gathered round to look at it

“Right, that’s got your attention. Now, you must listen to me as I have news for you…”

“No, really, ‘ow did you do that? Cos I got a brother as does magic tricks, and he ain’t never managed anyfink as good as that.”

“Oh, Heavens, I suppose I do need to explain at this juncture, erm, I am an angel. Ah, fear not…”

“Never!” said, Asher, “my old Mum told me she saw an angel when she were a lass, an’ there was wings and stuff, an’ a ‘alo and it was wearing a really nice dress wiv gold on.”

“Really?” said another gravelly voice, that of Nicodemus, “I likes a nice dress, get tired of these heavy robes, dresses are much cooler in the summer.”

There was a general agreement at this sentiment, apart from Martha, who rolled her eyes and muttered something under her breath about the _male gaze_. Everyone ignored her.

“I don’t reckon your ma saw an angel, or if she did, it were one at the bottom of a bottle.”

“What you sayin’ about my old mum? You callin’ ‘er a lush, cos if you are, I’m gojn’ to ‘ave to arsk you to step over ‘ere for a square go.”

The shepherd, Nicodemus, had walked over to his comrade and was now holding him up by the bunched-up fabric at the front of his robe. The smaller man whimpered, his sandalled toes only just brushing the ground as he trembled in the grip of his burly assailant.

“Please!” said Aziraphale, feeling that the situation had not only run away from him again, but had leapt several fences and was now sprinting for the county border, “if you could all just listen for a moment,” he crossed to the pair who were still eyeball to eyeball, “do put him down, there’s a good fellow.”

Aziraphale exerted a little of his Grace, and the larger man lowered the smaller one to the ground.

“I am sure you didn’t mean to say that to your colleague here, erm?”

“Nicodemus,” said Nicodemus, still somewhat agitated.

“Now, erm?” said Aziraphale, looking at the smaller man.

“Asher.” he bleated.

“Asher. Good. Now apologise, and we can get on with what I am here to tell you.”

“ ‘M sorry Nic,” said Asher.

“ ’S alright,” replied Nicodemus, “jus’ don’t say nothink like that ever again.”

“Right, now all that is settled…” said Aziraphale, attempting to bring the party to order, but no sooner had he begun to speak when he was interrupted again, by Zebulon this time.

“Er, mister angel?”

“What now?” snapped Aziraphale.

“You’re not very impressive, for an angel. You just look like a regular bloke,” said the shepherd, leering at him.

“Oh,” said Aziraphale, “I was trying not to overwhelm you, but I suppose I’m not all that impressive, no.”

His shoulders slumped, and he sighed. Zebulon eyed him, uneasy at his sudden dejection.

“You could show us yer wings,” he ventured, “that’s prob’ly be convincin’. Ordin’ry blokes don’t have that much in the way of wings.”

The angel considered the diminutive figure before him, and gave in, rolling his eyes in exasperation.

“Oh good grief, I had wanted to avoid this palaver, but if you must.”

Aziraphale reached into the other dimension where his wings lay folded against his back, and rolled his shoulders. There was the heavy whumping noise of air being displaced from one plane to another, and two huge wings, pearly white, manifested behind his back, flexing and coming gracefully to rest at either side of his body, the flight feathers trailing into the grass.

“Does that make you any happier? Yes?”

“ ‘E’s awful snippy for an angel, ain’t ‘e?” said Asher, attitude undimmed after his run in with his larger co-worker.

“Yes, well, you’d be snippy if you… oh never mind. Do listen up, there’s good, erm, people, I bring glad tidings of great joy to you and all of humankind.”

“Awright , that sounds nice, dunnit lads…” there was a hissed _Zeb!_ and a rolled eyeball from Martha, and the speaker coughed and corrected himself, “and lass. We could do with some nice news, it’s quite depressing this time of year. Gettin’ colder, grain prices going up, mutton prices comin’ down…”

There was a general babble of agreement at this, three of the shepherds starting to complain at their current economic circumstances. Aziraphale bristled as their focus drifted off. This was what he got for trying to be tactful. These people were simply impossible.

“WOULD YOU ALL JUST SHUT UP!” he shouted. They looked at him, horror in their faces as his words echoed across the hillside.

“Just for a moment, _please,_ ” he said, lowering his voice and filling it with sweeter tones in an attempt to smooth over his loss of composure. There was a shuffling of feet and several sheepish ‘sorry’s from the assembled company. They settled and looked at him expectantly.

“Thank you. Now. There is to be a baby born this night who will bring great changes to those his life touches. You are to be witnesses to this splendid happening. I am to prepare you for the Host who will be appearing very soon to sing in praise, and after you have heard their holy voices, you are to follow the sign down to Bethlehem and pay homage to the child. Right, I want you to tell me that you understand what I have just said. I will not be taking questions. Repeat after me - there is a baby…”

_“No need to be so patronising…_ ” muttered Martha, still feeling militant.

There was a reluctant chorus of voices. They repeated each line in the monotonous drone of put upon employees in training sessions in every known universe.

“ _There is a baby_.”

“To be born tonight.”

_“I still think he’s guilty of angelsplaining.”_

Aziraphale cleared his throat in a deliberate manner and fixed the party with one of his most pointed looks

“ _Shhhh, ‘e’s gettin’ cross, put a sock in it!_ ”

There was more shuffling and another muttered ‘sorry’.

“ _To be born tonight_.”

“And you shall follow the sign down to Bethlehem and pay homage to him.

“ _And you shall_ … “

Aziraphale rolled his eyes and corrected them.

“ **We** shall _._ ”

“ _We shall_ …”

The voices tapered off as they looked around, puzzled expressions on their faces. Asher’s voice piped up, breaking the silence.

“Oi, where’s this sign, then?”

It was at this point that something started to go right for the benighted Angel of the Lord. The landscape around them, up until that moment lit only by the usual mazy starlight, was suddenly flooded with illumination. The shepherds looked about them, seeing the fields, dotted with the rounded forms of sleeping sheep, their dogs, and the angel in front of them with almost supernatural clarity. The star flared above them, incandescently bright, making it impossible to look skywards for a moment until the stream of light settled into a constant presence overhead.

“Oooooh,” sighed the shepherds, in unison.

“Coo. That’s a sign, if ever I saw one,” said Zebulon, “Okay, you got me, I believe you. We’ll all go down to the town and see this babe. Right lads…and lass?”

There was a chorus of excited ‘yeses’ and heads nodded enthusiastically. Aziraphale relaxed a little, the message seemed to have been received, now he needed to go and see what was happening elsewhere.

“There’s just one thing more, mister angel…”

“Mmhmm?” said Aziraphale, through a determined closed-lipped smile.

“What about our socks?”

“I’ll dry the blasted things for you,” said God’s Representative on Earth, testily, with a wave of his arm, “there, will that do you? Now put them on, there’s good people and for goodness sake, get moving. I really must go now.”

“Oh, right. Bye, then, mister angel,” said Asher, smiling and waving as Aziraphale began to back away.

“Er, yes, goodbye all of you. Remember to be good. Mind how you go!”

There was a chorus of good-natured valedictions as he left them, so he raised a hand to leave a general blessing for a contented life and peace of mind on the little group of people. They weren’t a bad lot, all in all, and he felt that it was unfair, somehow, that they had been picked out to represent the bulk of humanity. He turned his back on them, folding his wings away and starting down the hill, leaving them fussing about their feet and snarking at each other as they gathered up their socks and sandals.

***

Crawly had manifested back to the hillside as soon as he could, and had heard much of what had transpired there. He could not stop himself from laughing, aware while he was doing so that his laughter was fond, rather than mocking. Typical of this angel to get himself into such a ridiculous situation through just wanting to be _kind_.

When Aziraphale caught sight of Crawly, waiting for him just over the crest of the hill, he was busy wiping his eyes, and his voice still contained the traces of his laughter when he had gathered himself enough to speak.

“Your new approach to announcements, how’s that working out for you?”

“Oh _Lord_ , how long have you been here?”

The demon’s sniggers hissed into the night air.

“Do be quiet, Crawly, I’m really not in the mood,” said Aziraphale, unhappily.

“So you don’t want me to tell you how I got on in the town then?”

“I didn’t say that. Oh, dear me,” Aziraphale sighed, deflated, “I am sorry, Crawly. If you must know, it went terribly. I barely managed to tell them what I was supposed to and they doubtless thought me a very silly angel to be approaching them in that way.”

“Oh come on, you did your best. It was a brave experiment. I could have told you they were a mouthy lot, shepherds, notorious for it, they are. It’s the nomadic life, makes them very independent minded,” he said, approvingly, “Still, no harm done, eh?”

“I suppose not,” said Aziraphale, “how did you get on – is Miryam alright? Were they very angry when they got there, do they know I messed things up? I feel I‘ve failed them.”

The angel’s face adopted a careworn expression. Crawly hated to see him like that, and, kicking himself internally for his susceptibilities, moved to nudge him with a shoulder.

“Cheer up, O Angel of the Lord. They’re fine. The Innkeeper wouldn’t listen to me at first, and you forgot to tell me your alias, which is my fault for not asking, so I couldn’t get them their room. He wasn’t a bad bloke though, and they’re safe and warm now in the stable block.”

“In a stable? Oh goodness, we must hurry back and I can put things right.”

“I don’t think you’ll be able to now, she’s quite far along. The Innkeeper’s wife is with her and she’s comfortable and doing well. Best leave it for the moment. It might be better anyhow.”

“Better, Crawly. How can this possibly be interpreted as _better_? The baby is on its way and it’s going to be born in a stable of all places!”

“Think about it, if he’s born in a humble place, he’ll inspire others to humility. It’ll be like a wossname, a metaphor. Could work out quite nicely, if spun the right way.”

The angel thought about this for a moment and then brightened, drawing closer to the demon.

“That’s — that’s actually rather brilliant,” he gave a tentative smile, “it’s something, anyway. I can put it in my report, see how it goes down. Thank you, Crawly.”

The smile was genuine and blinding now, and the demon felt a blush rise to his cheeks.

“Ngggh, shaddup, ’s nothing.”

“I should apologise, f-for earlier, what I implied, about you causing trouble, with the baby, I mean, I should have realised, you wouldn’t…”

Crowley bristled visibly and looked offended

“ _I would_ , I mean, normally, ‘course I would, _normally_ , yeah, just havin’ a day off, no need to assume anythin’ ‘cause I’ll be back to it, once this is over, you’ll see…”

“Of course you will be,” said the angel, soothingly, “I know that, and I will be on my guard against your fearsome onslaught, as I usually am, that’s understood. But for now we can just let things be, can’t we?”

“Just this once maybe, yeah…”

They stood awkwardly together for a time, both looking at the town below them, serenely bathed in a wash of starlight that was brighter than the moon when it waxed full. There was a moment of calm as they surveyed the scene. Then a voice broke the silence.

“That’s one of mine you know,” said Crawly, softly, looking skywards.

Aziraphale fixed his eyes on Crawly, seeing, for once, not the demon, but the fallen angel before him, his hair glinting with tawny fire in the starlight, honeyed eyes fully amber and sad with his remembering. He was, as he always seemed to be whenever he appeared back in Aziraphale’s life, quite lovely, and his current melancholy only seemed to add to his beauty. The angel tipped his head back following the demon’s gaze, taking in the sight of the miraculous star blazing above them, and drew in a breath, realising as he spoke just what Crawly was alluding to.

“One of your what…? The star you mean — really Crawly? You mean you…?”

“Yeah, I sorta caused — that — one of my experimental ones. Knew it was going to…but I never…”

“I don’t understand. Do you mean you intended that it should do this?”

Mmmmyeah, it’s a supernova. It’s exploding just now, then, the way I designed it, there will be a load of new stars born out of what’s left — like a nursery for baby stars…”

“Oh… Oh that’s really quite lovely, I…”

“Yeah, okay, don’t go on about it. Point is, I didn’t know it would do this — now, ‘cause it kinda makes me wonder…”

“If it was meant, you mean? Well, we can’t know, can we? It’s…”

“Don’t you dare say it! Just don’t.”

“All right, I won’t then,” said the angel, softly, “but is it alright for me to say how beautiful I think it is?”

“Yeah, ’s alright, I’ll put up with it.”

They looked at each other and smiled, for a brief moment in harmony under the light of the star maker’s work.

The spell was broken by a flash of what almost seemed like lightning from the hillside above them.

“Oh goodness!” said Aziraphale, “that will be the Host, they are due to start manifesting to sing any moment n-"

Right on cue, there was a brighter flare from where they had previously been with the shepherds, and a chorus of ethereal voices could be heard on the breeze. Shortly after the first ‘Gloria’ rang out, a small burst of screaming was clearly discernible, swiftly drowned out by the swell of unearthly harmony. So much for not frightening the humans, thought Aziraphale, darkly.

“Best make yourself scarce...“ started Aziraphale, but the demon appeared to have vanished. There was a hiss at his feet and he just spotted the glint of a scaly flank insinuating its way into the scrub at the side of the olive grove they were walking past.

***

Benjamin was not amused. It had been a long day, setting off just after dawn, the fatter one of the two-legs on his back with a pack loaded up behind her rump. He had been driven quite hard by the other two-legs, and although he couldn’t really complain, the fellow was not a bad master, as two-legs went, Benjamin made a habit of irascibility and this latest development had really pissed him off, so he was muttering to himself, in donkey, at all the injustices of the weary world.

The two oxen in the stall next to him exhibited the phlegmatic temperament that they were known for. Not great conversationalists, your average ox. More inclined towards what looked like philosophical cud chewing but was really just a form of vacancy that he found particularly irritating. The lone ram, was in some sort of huff, and had only deigned to share his name with Benjamin — _Baaaaaarnabus —_ before turning his back and ignoring him. Lucky really, sheep were silly creatures, in the sophisticated estimation of this worldly and rather cynical ass.

Benjamin had been looking forward to that hay. He had quenched his thirst from the bucket placed down for him and had just been stretching his neck up and reaching over with his long, yellow teeth when hands appeared and took the whole bloody manger away. His two-legs had then come into the stable with its mate, and proceeded to fuss about. The smaller, fatter one was huffing and puffing and making a bit of a noise, while the larger one fashioned the straw in the main part of the stable into a mound and covered it with a blanket.

It had taken him a while to work out what was going on, but finally, after watching for a little time, he understood. Small fat two-legs was having a foal, and making a real meal of it. Why she didn’t just stand up and push it out, he couldn’t fathom. The two-legs’ seemed to make difficulties in everything they did. Another two-legs came to help and after much caterwauling, the youngling had emerged.

_All very lovely_ , thought Benjamin, moodily, _if he didn’t have his infant arse on my dinner_.

The oxen were the first to feel it. They stamped nervously on the floor of their stall, shifting their vast bulk from foot to foot, eyes rolling to show their whites. The ram backed away, dunting his heavy head with its curled horns on the back wall of the stable. Then Benjamin felt his senses tingle. Something in his hind brain flared red.

_Danger._

The signal filtered through, instinct making him rear up slightly.

_Snake._

There was a snake nearby.

No, there was a snake in the stable, in the stall, near his hooves and the vulnerable soft flesh of his belly.

He heard it, a hiss and the subtle susurration of scales sliding against the straw. Then there was a voice in his mind, insinuating things. The others heard it too, he could tell.

“I will not harm you, but you are to do as I sssay.”

He looked down, there was its head, black with mesmerising yellow eyes, red scales on its underside, a dangerous thing, not to be trifled with. He swallowed nervously, forgetting his dinner, and sent compliant thoughts in its direction. It backed off and coiled around itself, waiting.

***

The group of five shepherds, clean socks on, and underwear changed, made their way around the back of the inn towards the little line of outbuildings. Asher carried a lamb in his arms. He had no idea why he had picked up a lamb, it had just felt fitting in some way that he do so. They were followed by another figure, at some distance, a prosperous looking chap, slightly portly, with a cloud of paper-white hair.

The sight that met the group when they opened the double door to the stable warmed all of their hearts. A young woman, tired looking, hair stuck to her brow with the sweat of recent labour, radiant with love and pride in her newborn son, cradled him, tenderly, a beautiful picture of maternal devotion. The tiny child reached out to her breast with a hand that made little star shapes in the air, and he seemed to smile, despite being far too new to be capable of such a thing.

A clock in a nearby tower chimed twelve. All together, the animals who shared the humble room with this new mother, her husband and son, bowed down their heads, and kneeled.

The angel, bringing up the rear, peeped in between the heads, saw the warmly it tableau, and smiled. After the mistakes he had made and everything the young couple had been through, things really had worked out nicely, thanks to the help he had received. He felt the warmth of happiness run through him and perhaps a hint of optimism for the future.

He crept away, and found Crawly in human form again further down the road. When he spotted Aziraphale, he got up from where he was lounging on a low wall and started walking towards him, a genuine smile of delight rising across his face, marking his cheeks with two very fetching dimples.

“Fancy a drink, do you, Angel? Wet the baby’s head?”

“I do believe I would, yes.”

The angel answered the demon’s smile with one of his own, full of a warmth and a fondness that he identified as the feeling of true friendship. Crawly turned and fell into step beside Aziraphale, and the oddly matched pair walked on together under the light of the Star into the night of the first Christmas.

**Author's Note:**

> I am aware that not everyone in the fandom has a Christian background, so with this in mind, and in a small attempt to be inclusive, I have refrained from using the word Messiah or calling the baby the Son of God in this story. I deliberately made Aziraphale’s explanation of the event as vague as I could to leave it up to the reader as to the significance of the birth of the baby. 
> 
> There is a tradition in the UK, that the animals in the stable kneeled to herald the birth of Jesus. Some say, that if you go to a byre at midnight on Christmas Eve, you can still see the beasts of the field making the same tribute.
> 
> I have another Christmas story, written last year and updated this year. It is a light-hearted Good Omens take on Dickens’ famous work for Christmas based on the same Tumblr post that Neil Gaiman made about Aziraphale and Crowley at Christmas that this story took its inspiration from. He suggested that they might have been involved in giving an elderly miser a series of nightmarish visions. This is my take on that idea called [A Christmas Carol Service](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21748195/chapters/51885319) Give it a read if you are interested.


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